Tuesday Afternoons ~ Brynn Paulin

A great trailer for Tuesday Afternoons created by Fran Lee. Thanks Fran!

Dancing WIth Danger

Hi everyone! My good friend Desiree Holt has a new book out today that I want to tell you about. This great story is available at Ellora's Cave. You know anything by Desiree is a winner! Here it is:

Dancing with Danger

Rachel Windsor knew nothing about Gabriel Peralta except that he was walking sex appeal. He blew into her life without notice, here today then always gone on a puff of wind. But each time he appears, he does things to her body that even her fantasies haven’t conjured up, driving her to orgasms that shake her like a raging storm. His mouth knows every inch of her body. The imprint of his intimate kisses linger long after he disappears.

Now he’s back again, his life unexpectedly on the line. But even in the danger zone his sexual demands are more scorching than ever and this time, Rachel is determined not to lose him—or the erotic lifestyle that binds them.

You can pick this up HERE.

Congrats Desiree!!!

Book Idol

Today, I’m pleased to announce is the end of my yearly ‘book idol’. Once a year, I go all Simon Cowell on my keeper shelf. Have you moved me? Do I think of you? Do I get the urge to revisit the scenarios in this book? Are you even memorable at all?

If the answer’s no, the book goes off to the giveaway bag. If the answer’s yes, the book goes back on the shelf.

Of course…sigh…I have to admit, I do go all Paula Abdul over some of my books. They stay by author name alone and all those other questions are invalidated. Jude Devereaux, Lynsay Sands, Lynn Kurland, Suzanne Brockmann, Ann Marie Winston, Amy J Fetzer? Y’all get to stay. You’re safe from Simon Cowell-ing. And then there’s Johanna Lindsey. She’s safe, too. In fact, this is where I admit…I, well, I have three copies of one of her books, A Heart So Wild. Why? Geez, I have no idea. But I have two on my keeper shelf and one in my office. I don’t even know where they all came from. (Lindsey fans, one word: Chandos)

This is something I should tell you about authors… Books just show up. They do! (Really dear husband of mine, THEY DO!!!) They just appear, perhaps believing the home of a writer is a safe haven. To those migrating books, I issue this dire warning: Beware of Book Idol. I will find you and you will be purged.

This year, I found 71 impostors hidden amongst the keepers. And, now there’s room for more! More books…

Life of a Romance Writer – Part 4, Thursday

This should be called a day in the life of a romance editor today. My brain is fried. Today, I’ve assessed four books, written schedules for 28 books and done a half a bazillion emails. Okay, I exaggerate. It was only a quarter of a bazillion. I’ve formatted twelve manuscripts for edit. And now…I’m whipped.

I’m soooooooo knocking off for the night and watching Supernatural.

Life of a Romance Writer – Part 3, Wednesday

I’ve had one orgasm too many. Yeah, you heard me. One too many. Dear God, please do not mention the word sex or anything sexually related for at least 240 hours…or longer. I wrote 5000 words of it yesterday and I don’t know that I can bear any more for a bit. For the record, for those who haven’t read one of my books, the non-sex stuff really does have a higher ratio of words than the sex stuff. The 5K was just the way it worked out in this particular work.

So…unaware of my wishes, many have made sex references on my Facebook page this morning. Oy!

You’d think I’d be happy that I was done with the book and let it slide off. I am happy, but today I’m also overtired and almost everyone in my household, save my wonderful husband, seems to want to make me cry. Sigh… Overtired and hormonal. We romance writers get that too. And what our heroines couldn’t learn from that. If only they’d wait to make major decisions until they were sure they had enough sleep, enough caffeine and enough level-headedness. Meh… But what kind of a story would that make? Sometimes, it’s the crack-headed leaps that make the book interesting.

All hail hormones, eh?

And congested chest. I’m lying in the couch, sounding like a wheezing cat. It’s nice to have a job where I can call in sick when I need to, and not have to actually call.

One funny thing though… My two characters were having a fight and my hero says to the heroine, “You’re blowing me off for lunch?”

No one noticed. Not me the three times I edited it, not my critique partner, and I don’t think my editor did either.

Correction made…CHECK!

And you know what…in the end (in the addition) the heroine did blow him off for lunch. Yay me! Thank you, thank you very much.

I feel almost orgasmic.

Life of a Romance Writer – Part 2, Tuesday

I’m not much of a procrastinator… Okay, well, yes I am. But I SWEAR this is NOT my fault! I’ve been so slammed with work (and well cleaning yesterday) that I’ve gotten to my deadline and I still have 4000 words to write on my manuscript. Not just any 4000 words. No, these are 4000 words of sex. 4000 overwhelming words. 4000 roadblocks on my way to being finished with this book’s edits. Yes edits. I won’t explain, but I needed to make an addition.

The ever-glam life I lead will today consist of me intermittently chugging coffee and water. If I remember, I’ll brush my hair on the way to take the kids to school. Everyone there has seen me in my jammie pants so no worries on that front. I’ll definitely brush my hair before I pick them up…and probably change and shower (not in that order). Life will not return to normal until 8 PM tonight when I press the send button on my email and wing my manuscript off to my editor.

Hmmm…maybe saying life will return to normal is going too far. This IS normal. And tomorrow. I’ll start work again on my next book. I have 26K to go on it and I want it in by mid-October.

I love my life!!! I really do!

I also love that I got an awesome 5-star review for Single White Knight from Teresa at Rainbow Reviews. Here’s part of it:

Ms. Paulin has created a fascinating story incorporating both the past and present times. The glimpses into the Middle Ages added both depth and substance to the story. The character of the angel who got involved when first Toby than Alwyn were in danger was a great addition to the story. It was difficult to watch the difficulties that Toby endured against the prejudice at his job. I was entranced as the story unfolded to see how Toby and Alwyn dealt with the situations they encountered in their lives. The love between them was never in question, but what they do with it will ultimately write the outcome of this story. Thanks go to Ms. Paulin for a great read.

Thanks Teresa!

The Life of a Romance Writer – Part 1, Monday

I’m taking a break from my regularly scheduled Monday to write about my Oh So Romantic Life. On the weekends, I don’t clean so on Monday mornings after I’ve taken the kids to school, the cleaning begins. You’d be amazed at what a mess two days away creates…and how much laundry. Then again, maybe you wouldn’t be. You might experience the same. Today was also shopping day.

It’s raining. I like rain, but I don’t like that it started to pour as I pulled into the driveway. Clutching my Starbucks and an environmentally friendly reusable bag of groceries, I ran for my front door, knowing I had three more trips to make. Of course, today would be the day I bought flats of water. We don’t do juice boxes or soft drinks around here. It’s water—unless the teenagers want to walk to the store and get their own soft drinks. But those flats of water? A pain in the butt when it’s raining buckets.

My hair now plastered to my face and body, I put away the groceries. Thankfully, the fridge was clean—for once—and I could easily put things away. Then it begins…

I start at the back of the house and move forward. Stripping and remaking beds, dusting, scrubbing down the entire bathroom (ick), dusting and washing the living room and kitchen then vacuuming all. Gotta say, I’m pretty tired when that’s all done.

Meanwhile, I’m also doing laundry. Today, I discovered I’m out of soap—even though I was JUST at the store!!! Writers should never leave the house without an edited list. Mine had holes. So I went to blow out the candle in the bathroom. My now-dry hair swung down into the flame, setting part on fire and getting wax on it. Sigh… Oh, ever so romantic. This isn’t what I had in mind when I thought burning scented candles would be a good idea.

So back to the store…

Screaming babies, people swerving in front of me, people who can’t work the U-scan. I just wanted laundry soap…really. Otherwise, no mishaps at the store, and no rain on the way home. I shoulda called that good enough, but no… I stopped through Arby’s. What followed was not Arby’s fault. Not directly. Though, I must say, my senses were thoroughly offended that my drink was served up in a hard plastic U of M cup. I am a die-hard State fan, thank you very much. And said cup didn’t fit in my cup holder because the base is wide and non-flexible. You might guess where I’m going… Diet Pepsi spilled all over my lap. Good thing I went to get the laundry soap.

I have managed something productive. Two manuscripts reviewed, one finalized for two authors I edit. Notes sent out to other authors. All without problems. Shocking, I know.

And now it’s raining again… Time to get the kids. When did we start having hurricanes in Michigan? But I am a romance writer (though I’ve yet to get to my manuscript). I vow that I’ll not look like a drowned rat when my hero comes home to find me perfectly coiffed and made up, dressed in a silk confection that will make his heart beat like hummingbird’s wings… He'll be so blown away, he won't even notice when I spend the rest of the night writing and ignoring him.

What Shall We Do?

Protect Insurance Companies PSA from Will Ferrell

We Can't Afford to Wait

The health care debate has moved far away from what really matters. Millions of Americans can't afford to wait on health care reform.

I just watched this powerful new video from MoveOn that the Courage Campaign forwarded to me. This video features a song from R.E.M. and shows real people suffering under our broken health care system.

I thought you might be interested in seeing it as well:

http://www.couragecampaign.org/WeCantWait

If you like it, please pass it on to your friends.

Thanks!

Have a Laugh At My Expense

Several years ago, I had a short essay published in an online magazine. It was a true story, and today, I'm going to share it with you. It's the 'sad' story of how I learned that there are no secrets from children.

Much of motherhood flies by in a blur, while other things stand out as pure joy, extreme fear, or intense pride. Or, in my case, absolute mortification.

The day of “the incident', I was sailing through the task of mothering two little boys and thinking things were going very well. They were happily occupied playing in their room and I was actually getting things done. I guess things were going too well. After almost four years, I should have known better.

I also should have gotten a lock box. But that comes later.

Parenting Tip #1: When they’re quiet, there’s trouble.

My husband and I were in the living room reading when my older son, Adam, entered. Being wise – not really – I had spaced my children close together. They are the best of friends. Because of this, my younger son, Drew, entered right behind his brother.

Now Adam has always been bright and mature, and sometimes his tone reminds me of a voice from my past. My mother, in my teen years.

I realized suddenly that he was glaring at me, with his hand hidden behind him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, setting aside my novel and segueing into concerned mother mode. His hand whipped from behind his back.

“Momma, what extactly is dis.”

“Yeah, ma,” his little brother echoed.

Oh. My. God! I think my eyes rolled back in my head. Actually, I’m surprised I didn’t faint. If ever there was a time, this was it. How on earth did I explain? I had never even admitted to anyone that I had one of those.

As my husband -- who had bought the “dis” by the way -- choked with laughter next to me, I realized that my son held my pink, anatomically correct vibrator in his chubby little hand. His other hand on his hip, he stared at me, waiting for an answer. His brother struck a similar pose. Where is it written that the children get to gang up on their mother?

What they received as an answer was a particularly un-motherly shriek, and a “Give that to me!” That’s when my brain finally clicked back into gear. This wasn’t exactly something I left laying around. The last time I’d seen it, it was tucked safely in the back of my drawer under a pile of underwear. Once I’d put it back there, I returned to the living room and cornered my sons.

“What were you doing in my dresser?” I demanded. I’d told them often to stay out of my bedroom, a directive they patently ignored. I never expected them to go through the dresser drawers.

Parenting Tip #2: Always expect the unexpected.

Adam blinked up at me, full of innocence. “I was lost.”

I think I developed a twitch right about then. It reappears frequently – usually in conjunction with my older son.

Adam received a time out while I wished for valium. Triple strength. His brother went back to his room to play after I’d ferreted out that he was an innocent bystander in the mommy humiliation project. As soon as Adam was released from time out, he asked, “Momma, can I play wid your handcuffs? Why you hab dem anyway?”

Did I mention the water I was drinking and the fountain that resulted? He giggled maniacally, thinking I was just being funny, and begged me to do it again. I shooed him off to play, with the admonition to stay out of my bedroom.

I sank into my chair, my head in my hand. Visions of Adam performing the same “What is this?” stunt in front of company haunted me. What if he brought it up at my mother’s? At least he didn’t know what "dis" was called. I added a lock box to my shopping list.

Nothing more was said about “the incident". I fell back into a state of mommy-bliss. It would take a few more occasions for me to learn mommy-bliss is a dangerous place. Thankfully, none of the subsequent occurrences involved the pink, anatomically correct vibrator or any similar device.

Except for one. Did I mention that it was anatomically correct? Perhaps not. So in case you missed it, it was anatomically correct.

Fast forward to a few days after the first “incident". By now, I was hoping maybe Adam wouldn’t remember his foray into my dresser, that maybe he wouldn’t drag out my personal items in front of guests, and that maybe he wouldn’t be scarred for life. Lord knows, I would be.

Was it too soon for the birds and the bees talk? It was definitely too soon for the sex toy talk. Is there a sex toy talk? I can tell you, at this point, it’s a discussion I hope to never have.

Anyway, as I was dusting, I could hear my dear sons downstairs in the family room. As background, they had on a mommy-screened, child-friendly video. Only they weren’t watching it. Adam had decided to take the sex talk thing into his own hands. While I began to see black spots before my eyes, he talked earnestly to his younger brother.

“It’s not right to cut off penises and keep them in your drawer. . .”

The twitch was back.